Thursday, January 15, 2009

WITH AN OINK OINK HERE, AND A CLUCK CLUCK THERE; HERE A {@%^!!, THERE A $@%^!!, EVERYWHERE A %*%^! %*%^!: This new judge -- this "I'm a Really Big Deal across the Pond, just ask Bravo's marketing department" judge -- known, we are told, repeatedly, for his colorfully cruel commentary, are they setting him up for a late-season redemption arc? Or is he just an asshole? Gail was never this colorful, of course, but in a good way. Here in his second week, whenever Toby Young was talking, I found I missed her slightly over made-up self presentation and the awkwardly pointed professional criticism that left me wondering if she didn't habitually speak in long well organized paragraphs suitable for publication in feature length magazine reviews that the Bravo editors felt compelled to chop down to topic sentences for airing on basic cable television. And it's not that I don't think that Toby belongs on television, just that at this point it would be more gratifying to see him beaten up in a pub by one or another species of brutally pragmatic Jason Statham than to listen to him talk about food.

Speaking of redemption arcs, the wrong person bought the farm this week. Across several seasons of semi-attentive Top Chef viewing I cannot recall another instance where there were as many reflexive incredulous exclamations of seemingly genuine shock and disapproval when the Chopped Chef returned to from Judges' Table and reported the result. Anyone remember anything similar? There was an implicit "But you're better than both of them! ... And we like you better!" that hung in the air. That's good TV. Just 1 and 1/4 seconds of good TV, admittedly, but good TV nonetheless. Or maybe the reaction just resonated with a result that felt like it came out of left field. When Tom started asking other parties if they knew how to wrap a roast, and then, when they protested that they did, asked if they knew the reason for doing so, it seemed certain that things were going another direction.

On the subject of "both of them," was it a good idea to tease next week's episode as an "are they humping or not" sneaky-cam expose? If so, how? Reality TV certainly has had its successes in the cheap hormonal relationship drama department, but that does not mean that a show with strong appeal to less prurient interests needs to be soiled with cross-over content for viewers of Real Housewives of Wheatridge Community College and Culinary Vocational Institute who happen to wake up from their last Klonopin Kossack Martini to find Top Chef on the idiot box. Why ruin Restaurant Wars (in which drama is not likely to be scarce, exactly) with obstructed shots of those two canoodling? There has to be food-related mayhem that could fill that time. Instead, for example, why not score my flesh with an oyster fork, wrap me in cheesecloth, roll me in rock salt, and soak me down with red wine vinegar? (There, Bravo. If I can say it with a British accent can I have a job?) Of course these shows are about personality and personal interactions. This particular show is better when it focuses on personality traits and interpersonal choices with professional consequences, specifically those that relate to being a successful chef. Likely there are cases when who one is humping has a professional impact (e.g., Tom Arnold, Gary Hart, etc.), but this isn't one of them.

How awful is that word, by the way? "Humping," that is. "Fucking" would be preferable if the footage left any question of that interpretation, but so far it's all a matter of "are they lying by each other or on each other? moving? how much? just dozing or actively nuzzling?" Blech. But the point is that the word choice was considered seriously, and the irritating word seemed more appropriate than the one that is commonly regarded as more offensive. "Fucking," I mean, to be clear about the latter, and clear that it would have been used despite the associated level of reflexive offense if it had been more appropriate, but for that reason only. Unlike our Finnish Friend, let's not take perverse pleasure in saying "cock" on cable just because there is a barnyard-related fig leaf to excuse doing so. No no. {@%^ no! That would be like asking Padma to cram down a Velveeta and Spam grilled cheeze sandwich just because the Quickfire Challenge gave you an opening. Occasionally I curse to get my point across, as the man said, and that's all. It's not recreational. Honest. Despite liberal use of canned and bagged staple items in the kitchen, ours is not that sort of household. Besides, for recreational on-line swearing it's more fun on a classy blog like this to use "%*%^$&%^@#!," or similar, and permit readers to guess the word in mind or, better, to fill in their own.

Otherwise, enormous "amen" for farm fresh ingredients, local and seasonal food, and respecting the quality of life of the critters that sustain us. The repeated exhortations to (1) leave the fat on and (2) cook meat on the bone if you get meat on the bone, were particularly welcome. They were also so, so much more useful and edifying than (3) don't hump fellow cheftestants while protesting continued loyalty to someone at home.

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